


No Kinder Sign

by Jantique



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Rodney's Citrus Allergy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McKay was a scientist, trained to observe. He watched Sheppard’s food choices, and noted that the Colonel never took anything with citrus in it. Why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Kinder Sign

**Author's Note:**

> Chicken Piccata contains lemon juice. It's delicious - if you're not allergic!  
> 

“I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.” 

**Henry VI, Part 2**

 

 

John and Rodney stood in line for dinner in the Mess Hall, slowly shuffling forward as the line advanced. Finally they reached the food. “What’s good today, Peggy?” John smiled at the server.

She smiled back. “Hello, Colonel, Dr. McKay. I recommend the not-Chicken Piccata—” she glanced at McKay and hastily added, “—oh, and the meatloaf is very good.”

Rodney snorted, but John genially said, “Thanks, I think I’ll have the meatloaf.”

When they sat down, McKay shoved a large forkful of meatloaf into his mouth and mumbled, “Bub you lub n’chkn.”

“Swallow and try that again,” John kindly advised.

Rodney glared, but did so. “But you love not-chicken,” he iterated clearly.

“Yeah, I just … wasn’t in the mood.” He waved a hand in the air, demonstrating how not in the mood he was.

Rodney frowned, but subsided. It was a legitimate reason, he supposed. _He_ certainly would have taken the not-chicken in lieu of the meatloaf, if it hadn’t contained that poisonous lemon sauce. But to each his own.

But McKay was a scientist, trained to observe. He watched Sheppard’s food choices, and noted that the Colonel _never_ took anything with citrus in it. Why not? He watched for three weeks, on and off-planet. Off-planet, now, that was interesting. The Colonel was Rodney’s official taste-tester, and Rodney was grateful for it. But after Sheppard confirmed that something had citrus, and Rodney should avoid it, _he_ never had any more of that particular substance, either. Rodney couldn’t figure it out—and he hated puzzles he couldn’t solve.

After three weeks, Rodney decided he had observed enough. Time for some answers. He marched over to Sheppard’s quarters, knocking and entering in one smooth motion. The Colonel looked over from his bed and, seeing that it was only Rodney, didn’t bother hiding the graphic novel (okay, comic book) he was perusing.

“Hey, Rodney, what’s up?”

Rodney, in turn, politely demanded, “What’s going on?” He clarified, “With you.”

John considered the question. “Well, I’m feeling pretty good; no one died today; Lorne’s caught up on my paperwork—”

“No! What’s up with you not eating citrus? I know you’re not allergic!”

John rolled out of bed so fast his head spun. “Um … sure I do.”

“No, you don’t. Never on Atlantis. Even if we’re off-planet and you taste something citrus, you don’t have any more of it.”

 _Damn it_! Who knew Rodney would be _watching_?! He bit his lip. “Umm….”

“Yes, you said before. This time, let’s try English.”

John knew he had to tell the truth. He hoped Rodney wouldn’t be too angry. He looked down at the floor, took a deep breath, and said, “Iheardaboutagirlwhowasallergictopeanutsandherboyfriendatepeanutbutterandkissedherandshedied.”

Rodney considered himself fluent in John-speak, but that was incomprehensible. “Once more, with breaths in-between, please.”

Jesus! He had to say it _again_?! He could do this. He just couldn’t look Rodney in the eye while he ruined the closest friendship he’d ever had.

“I heard about a girl … who was allergic to, to peanuts and her boyfriend ate peanut butter and, and kissed her and … she died.”

“Oh, I heard that, too. She was Canadian. Although they later decided it wasn’t—wait a minute!” Rodney clapped his mouth shut and thought this through.

“Colonel, do you want to kiss me?”

John felt his face flushing. Probably his ears, too. Damn it, Lieutenant Colonels _did not_ blush!

“Um, maybe?”

“’ _Maybe_?’” Rodney sighed. “And _I’m_ supposed to be the socially awkward one?! Honestly!” he continued gently, “Colonel, look at me.”

Not looking up, John muttered, “John”.

“John. Look at me, please.” His voice was soft.

John looked up, saw open blue eyes. A little worried, but … not angry or repulsed. It couldn’t be _hopeful_ —could it? Rodney reached up his hand and held John’s cheek.

“Hey!” he said quietly. “All you ever had to do was ask.”

John swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He smiled that quirky smile,  put his other hand on the back of John’s head, and drew him down for a gentle kiss, lips barely brushing.

John was confused, disbelieving. Rodney—Rodney wanted to _kiss_ him? _Him_ , _John_? But it wasn’t much of a kiss. Maybe he’d changed his mind….

Rodney looked him right in the eye and said, “Now this time, you help. Okay?”

Oh. Okay. They both leaned forward, working out the logistics of noses and lips and teeth, and—oh. Oh! Rodney felt and smelled and tasted better than ... anything ever. He would have thought of a suitable metaphor, but he was too busy trying to get Rodney’s tongue in his mouth. It turned out all he had to do was part his lips. John was lost. He never wanted to stop. Breathing was totally overrated.

But eventually Rodney pulled away, panting for breath. John sucked air into his lungs. There was something he had to say.

“Rodney, I—I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again. “Yeah, me neither. That’s why I never—” His eyes shone above a lopsided grin. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh?” He looked … happy. John couldn’t help but smile.

Rodney took John’s hand and said, “Sit.” They both sat on the bed, holding hands, legs touching. It was nice.

“Now the first thing is,” Rodney said, and John could just see him making a List, “you’re not my official taste-tester any more. Ronan and Teyla will have to do it.”

“Why not—oh! Right. No more citrus.”

“None! I plan to do a lot more kissing with you.”

Lieutenant Colonels did _not_ feel warm and tingly. But John couldn’t help smiling.

“And the second thing—and for that matter the third thing would be—“

“Rodney!” John hastily interrupted. “Could we do that later? Please. I think—I think we should practice kissing some more.”

“Well. It’s a hardship, of course, but if we must, we must.”

And so they did.

END

 


End file.
